Adventures in Womanhood

Judgement Calls

I am terrible at decisions. Horrifyingly bad at them, in fact. I don’t trust my own opinion as far as I can throw it, and considering how loud and pompous my opinions usually are that’s saying even less than you think it is. So I’m always the first to admit that I could be wrong, and also I spend a lot of time arguing points of view that are exactly contrary to my own. But for now let’s focus on the former character flaw.

I’m never 100% sure what my opinion of something is. You know that instinctive gut feeling some people get about anything from goat cheese to real person fanfiction? Yeah, I don’t get that. . . ever. Even when I think I feel strongly about a topic, one solid argument against it will usually blow me over. Or at least sow the seeds of doubt in my fertile imagination.

So when I’m called upon to make hasty judgement calls, I choke and flounder and try desperately to maintain some sense of savoir-faire while inevitably sounding like a contradictory moron. This isn’t even a rare occasion. Pretty much every time someone asks me a question that requires me to state a firm opinion, I grasp at straws and fling back the first semi-coherent thought my brain lands on. And depending on who you ask, most times it’s not even coherent (here’s to you, boyfriend).

Maybe this is a young adult retired teen thing? After all, my neocortical neurons aren’t fully myelinated yet and that’s got to be the Best Excuse Ever for bad judgement.* (That sentence should totally count as studying, y’all.) My least favourite part is when I make my mind up, then second-guess myself, only to realize that I had the right answer all along. But mostly I hover in a state of perpetual uncertainty. If they could harness my indecisiveness they’d solve the energy crisis.

Pax.
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*Explanation:
Myelin is a sheath that helps with nerve impulse transmission. Basically the more myelinated the nerve, the faster the transmission. Myelination of neurons in your frontal cortex isn’t completed until your mid-20s (when you’re ‘all grown up’) and then it starts to degenerate by the time you hit 60. Hence the adolescent and geriatric stages of woohoo time.
(I am totally studying right now, omg).